


sadness takes you slowly

by heartboys



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Sirius Black, Everyone Is Alive, M/M, Mention of abuse, Remus Lupin Lives, Remus Lupin Loves Sirius Black, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sirius Black Free from Azkaban, Sirius Black Lives, Sirius Black Loves Remus Lupin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:20:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26764234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartboys/pseuds/heartboys
Summary: sirius black comes back from 12 years of wrongful imprisonment and remus lupin comes back from 12 years of aching for someone to look him in the eye. everyone is sad, the war against voldemort is just beginning, and sirius is desperate for memories.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 1
Kudos: 38





	sadness takes you slowly

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is my first fic, probably gonna be short and sweet [sad]. i really like angsty wolfstar so pls enjoy.

Sirius Black has always been the life of the party. Pranking someone has always been natural to him, but it’s more than that. It’s seeing the impact he has had on others- even if it’s not always a good reaction. He enjoys seeing people laugh with him, enjoys seeing their eyes well up with joyful tears and their cheeks red from laughing abuse. He enjoys hearing their most private of laughs: the one you always save for only your dearest company. It’s been like this for as long as he can remember. Laughing, smiling, planning for the next big break. 

Growing up, he didn’t laugh. Well, he tried not to, and soon, it became second nature. His parents ran a strict household with high standards for him and his siblings. He was expected to conform to the family status, and when he did not, he suffered greatly. He was brave, though. Never once showed his father all of the torture written on the outside of his brain. He always stood there, taking the hits, never giving them the satisfaction of knowledge. 

Sirius Black knew that he was different than them from a young age. It was only when he met his very best friends that he finally decided to do something about it. Through them, he had an escape. He had a meaning. 

He met Remus Lupin on the train. He sat with him, eyes fixed on his shirt collar. It wasn’t perfectly ironed, it didn’t fit him like Sirius’ did. Sirius’ mother made sure he looked the best while representing the Black family. Sirius wondered where Remus came from. 

Remus laughed for the first time, and Sirius felt his eyes grow big. Laughter. Laughter. So forbidden, yet it feels so natural. Remus taught Sirius to laugh. 

They spent their days running through the halls of Hogwarts with James and Peter, and occasionally Lily Evans made a marvellous appearance. Sirius got through most of his years without bad marks, only stopping to undo the belt of Snape’s pants and watch them fall, or even skip quidditch practice to have a shag in the closet. 

Remus, however, did well in school. In fact, all of the teachers loved him. He was a good student, following rules, doing his work, not involving himself in the petty crimes of James and Sirius. What his professors did not know, however, was that he was the mastermind behind most of the stunts pulled at Hogwarts. He just went unnoticed due to the loud hollers coming from the two dark haired boys.

They grew and soon it was seventh year. Remus dealt with his... problem every month, not great but well enough. He had his friends to help him through it almost every single time, but Sirius was always there, no matter what. No matter the time of day, the time of year, the quidditch game the next morning, or his weekly “session” with his girl of the term. Sirius was always there. 

Until he wasn’t. Sirius got taken away. Taken away from Remus, from this world, from his world. And, for a while, Remus believed it. He felt so fucking bad for admitting that, but he did. He really did. He believed until he had to slap himself, trying to wake himself up from a world where his best friend was taken away and where Remus actually let it happen. He never woke up. 

Remus followed Harry Potter’s story, carefully watching from the sidelines, trying not to involve himself in the world of James Potter and his very alive son, but it got to the point where Harry looked so much like James, and Remus couldn’t look away. If Sirius wasn’t here, Remus would be. Remus guided harry through his third year, trying to prepare him for whatever was to come. He tried not to think of the black dog lurking in the bushes of Hogwarts, or the paw prints left at his door, or the big eyes that watched him everywhere he went. He tried so so hard. 

He couldn’t ignore it, and he knew Snape was extra cautious this year. It got to the point where he was dreaming about Sirius, holding his hand one last time, trying to see life in the man’s eyes. He looked so hard, but could only see his reflection. The reflection of a beat up, scarred, tired man who needs a cup of tea. 

That moment in the Shrieking Shack. The moment. The moment that Sirius had been waiting for, for twelve years. He had the scars to prove it. Twelve years, waiting, yearning, forgetting. He finally got the chance to escape not only the dementors, but the metal bars that reminded him that he was anything less than important and valued. 

Sirius found the castle, he found Remus, he found Harry. He needed a family. Even after all those years locked up, after all of the memories fading and the life sucked out of him, he knew. He knew what a family was, and he knew he needed one. 

Sirius took matters into his own hands, hopefully leading Remus back to him. That moment when their eyes locked for the first time since so long ago. The colors of Sirius Black were saturated, and Remus Lupin saw it with his own being. He saw Sirius light up, not just with love, but with hope and memory. 

They say you go to Azkaban and, if you come out, you come out different. You come out changed. That’s what they do to you, the dementors. They kiss you with the feeling of voids. They take your hands and mold them into blindness. Remus knew he would be different, he knew he would change, but god, he was still Sirius. 

After that night, they went to the house on 12 Grimmauld Place. The house whispered at Sirius, yelled even, it said nasty things that made Sirius question if he even deserved to escape. Remus took his hand, looked in his eyes, and smiled a little. Sirius was better for a couple of hours. 

The order met every week, as Voldemort’s Army was growing at an alarming rate. Sirius and Remus shared a room, the only room that didn’t screech hatred at Sirius. Remus volunteered to help him through the night, and after the first one, he didn’t go away. Sirius was thankful for Remus. He was the only thing connecting him, keeping him grounded to the earth that betrayed him so badly. 

Nothing was as it seemed in 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry and the Weasleys arrived one day, hermione and Tonks staying after a while. Everyone was here. Sirius should have been happy, he should have been ecstatic that the only family he had left was here with him. He put on a brave face for Harry, always giving him the best advice he could with what experience he had, or, what experience he remembered. 

Sirius Black could barely remember how he liked his tea, his favorite color, his favorite author, although Remus said he didn’t have one, Sirius could feel he did. He couldn’t remember how to look someone in the eye without flinching, couldn’t remember how to handle loud noises without cowering, and could not remember how to love. 

He did his best, no one could say he didn’t. He loved Harry Potter, he loved him like James would’ve and that is all he needed. Sirius knew how to love a son, it came naturally, but Sirius did not know how to love Remus. 

Remus didn’t know either. He was clueless, which is something you don’t hear very often when talking about Remus Lupin. He didn’t know what to do with those big gray eyes, the curly black hair, the face too old to be 18 year old Sirius Black. He didn’t know what to do when he couldn’t look away from him, couldn’t stop wondering where all of His Sirius went, why he was taken from him. 

Remus knew he was selfish, Remus knew Sirius was struggling. But, as much as he tried, he couldn’t look away. He saw kindness, death, broken trust, dust, every empty promise, all written neatly on his face. It was almost typed perfectly, spaced neatly on his forehead, almost as a warning sign, but not quite menacing enough. 

At that moment, Remus knew what he needed to do. He needed to woo Sirius Black all over again, and in turn, teach them both how to love each other. All over again. 

-

“He’s a child, Sirius,” Molly Weasley shot a look of concern to Harry’s wide, wondering eyes. Remus watched as Sirius’ face grew darker. 

“Exactly, Molly. He is a child who had his whole life taken from him, all through a mark on his head,” Sirius’ body shook, even though his words were soft. Remus was the only one who noticed the trembling of his hand. 

Molly glared at him, more fire behind her eyes this time. “He does not need this on his very full plate this year. He has enough to deal with.” 

“He has only this, this war, this era, this deathly promise. He needs to know how to beat it, for all of us, and for all of us who lost to it,” Sirius was shaking with full force now, his voiced raised to a scary volume. Remus almost reached his hand out. 

“I want to fight.” 

Every pair of eyes in the room went to the boy, the boy with the scar, the boy who lived, the boy who was prepared to die. 

“Harry,” Molly started, but was interrupted. 

“I have fought him before. I know him, he’s part of me, and I know me. I need to be across from him one day, and if that day is near, I need to be prepared.” Harry finished and locked eyes with Sirius, who looked even more worried. 

Sirius nodded in approval and pride, but the facade didn’t work on the older man sitting across the table. He was still shaking. 

The table was lively again, talks about armies and wars forgotten in the very little free time they have these days. Sirius was looking at his hands, ignoring Arthur Weasley telling a rather interesting story right next to him. Arthur didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he enjoyed a conversation with no interruptions. 

Remus, acting on pure impulse, reached out his hand to Sirius, who looked surprised. 

Everyone in the house knew their history, their friendship, their whispers, their closeness. They knew, and nobody dared to say anything. 

Remus’ hand rested on Sirius’, who just noticed his own trembling. Sirius’ mouth formed a small line, a line Remus knew all too well. This wasn’t new, this was a natural face for Sirius, one Remus saw 15 years ago. It was the face of fear mixed with self hatred. This only made Remus tighten his hand around the frail skeleton underneath him. 

Arthur continued with his story, his eyes fixed above Sirius, lost in tales of muggle money and automobiles. He didn’t notice the unspoken conversation coming from the men across from him. 

Sirius finally, after minutes, broke his eye contact with Remus. He got up with a scuff of his chair, calling all the eyes in the room to him. 

“Pardon me, I must excuse myself for a moment.” 

Sirius walked out of the makeshift kitchen, hand clenching and relaxing, over and over again. The house was screaming, it was yelling at him, telling him he doesn’t deserve this, why did he even come back? Can’t you realize none of this needs you, no one actually wants you? 

When Remus found him, Sirius was sitting on the sofa, elbows on his knees, hands in his hair, pulling softly. His head was shaking back and forth, almost to say no, and whispering pleas to what seemed to be himself. 

Remus looked around the room cautiously, trying not to frighten the man. He didn’t want to surprise him, he doubt he could, Sirius is as hyper vigilant as ever, but even the slightest creak in the floor board could have big eyes staring at him with disbelief. 

Remus eventually got to the couch, softly sitting down a few inches from Sirius. It was his hand’s turn to shake. He looked down and willed it not to, he couldn’t be weak in front of the trembling man. Not now. 

Sirius, unexpectedly, made a grab for Remus’ hand, grasping with all his power. His head was still resting in his left hand, his eyes still screwed shut, his head still going back and forth, but he was silent. The pleas had stopped, the whispering had stopped, everything was more silent than it had been in years. Remus tightened back on his hand. 

They sat like this for a long time until Harry came in the room, about to tell them that dinner was ready and everyone was going to sit by the fireplace and oh, moody had a great story to tell, but Remus looked him in the eye with concern. Harry shut his mouth abruptly, bowed a little, and left. 

Sirius took his head out of his hand, looked at Remus with the most powerful expression- one of pure sadness. Sadness that could split your heart open if you breathe it in. And oh, was Sirius breathing. Remus almost couldn’t take it, and again, acting on pure impulse, pulled Sirius into a warm hug, his second hug within 15 years. 

Sirius was tense, too tense to be comfortable, but Remus knew he was thankful for this. Sirius slid his hand up to Remus’ shoulder and clasped it for minutes, minutes of them embracing in a house that once meant torture for Sirius Black, and will henceforth mean warmth. 

-

Things were different after that, things were softer, less rough edges. Sure, things were still incredibly hard. Voldemort was rising, traitors were being lit up, and flashbacks hit the older folks in the Order. 

Everyone knew a war was coming, and as much hope as the younger wizards had, the seasoned wizards knew how hard it was going to be. Sirius, especially, took it hard. Every muttered word at the dinner table made him aware, looking up with wild eyes, seeing safety, then looking back down at his untouched food. 

As much as Remus was helping Sirius, he couldn’t help everything. He couldn’t fix the sudden depressive spells, the outbursts, the rare episodes of sobs, the leg bouncing under the table. Remus started sitting next to Sirius, instead of across, so he could occasionally rest his hand on the shivering leg, ceasing its jumping. Sirius would rest his hand atop Remus’s, glad there was someone to even care. 

Every night they spoke softly, as not to scare one another. Remus spoke of their years at Hogwarts, telling the most fun stories so Sirius could store them somewhere under “good memories.” Sirius told him about the nightmares, the ones that have haunted him for years. Remus didn’t mind these talks, he actually looked forward to them all day, desperately trying to get him and Sirius through the day. 

They slept in separate beds, twin sized mattresses with childish sheets that they were too amused with to replace. Every once in a while, Sirius asked Remus to climb in bed with him, just to feel a heart beat. Remus tried not to get up too quickly, but even when he did, Sirius was okay with it. As long as he could feel Remus’ chest going up and down, everything was okay.

-

Months had passed, and Sirius Black was healing. Remus had done some research on PTSD and it’s effects on the body and mind, and in his professional opinion, Sirius was suffering from it, and boy was he suffering. 

One night, at a meeting, a new rule was placed. The members ended up all agreeing on it, not like they had much of a choice, and went up to their rooms for the night. Sirius sat at the table for a longer time than usual. Remus watched him from the chair next to him, silently waiting for the mumbles to break loose from his mouth. 

“How do I like my tea, Remus?” 

Remus was not expecting such a mundane and light question from Sirius. He didn’t say it with a smile, he said it more with a frown of forgetfulness and shame. Remus took Sirius’ hand in his, fidgeting with the rings wrapped around his crooked hands. 

“You like it with two sugars, nothing else,” said Remus, still eyeing Sirius’ furrowed eyebrows. “You hated me for months when I put creamer in it. Wouldn’t let me off the hook, hid my muggle books for weeks before I found them under your trunk.” 

“Can you make me some tea?” Sirius stopped staring at their hands and looked up at Remus. A small hint of a smile lit on his face. Remus drank it up. 

“Of course. I would love to do just that,” Remus shot up from his chair almost comically with the sole intention of making that smile grow. He could use magic to make the tea, but thought Sirius may enjoy it more if it comes from him. 

The silence was quiet for once, not overbearing or shifty in Sirius’ ears. He could feel the light in his throat, his mouth, his cheeks. He watched as Remus made the tea, just for him, only for him. And as soon as Remus finished and brought it over to him, he asked the question that had been on his mind since that moment in the Shack. 

“Do you remember me?” Sirius asked this with pure force, almost knocking the wind out of Remus. Remus tried to think of what was happening, why he would even ask this. 

“Of course, Sirius. How could I forget you?” Remus answered truthfully, his whole heart pouring into his words, coating it with honesty. 

Sirius stopped for a moment, unwavering eye contact and said quite softly, “I don’t remember me. And most of the time, I can barely remember you.” 

Remus felt as if the wind was knocked out of him, pummeling him into the ground, farther and farther and farther. He saw regret in the hooded eyes in front of him, he saw wetness stain his beautiful cheeks, and he felt the sorrow coming from his words. 

“I want to remember you, and everyday you remind me of my life before... all of this hell. You remind me of a life after my parents. You remind me of a life we had, together. On the days I am especially forgetful, I think you make me remember the absolute pleasure I get just from being seven feet away from you, just from being in the same room as you. Just seeing you hover over your books, talk to Tonks, sing to yourself, everything you do reminds me of.. you. And me. You remind me of us.” Sirius let these words escape as if he had been holding them in for weeks, months, years. He had been waiting, alone, in his own mind to find a time to burst out into the world, making himself known. 

Remus was speechless. He saw what truly existed in this moment- a man, tattered and torn, no matter the expense of the clothes he put on, speaking to him through the cloak of sadness and loss, trying to tell him that he was trying. He was trying to remember, to remind, to love, to hate, to like someone so much that they were all you could even think about. He saw honesty. And for the first time in a long time, he saw Sirius Black. 

It seems as if Sirius Black made Remus Lupin a boy again- because once again, Remus acted on pure impulse, placing his hand on the side of Sirius’ head, gently tangling his hand into the soft curls. It seemed as if Sirius Black made Remus Lupin a boy again, because at that moment, Remus couldn’t hear a thing around him, only the quick breaths from the lips of the tormented man in front of him. It seemed as if Sirius Black cured Remus Lupin all over again. He made him whole. He made him happy. 

Remus found himself looking into the eyes of Sirius Black. He found so many more flecks he hadn’t before, so much more color. More blue this time, less hard gray that was packed like cement to cover weak spots. He saw his own reflection, but this time, it was like he was seeing himself as Sirius saw him. Broken, yet able to be put back together. Handsome, even with the scars and marks to define his tragic years. He saw himself, he saw Sirius, and he saw love. 

After what seemed like years, Remus’ eyes travelled down to his lips. They were chapped, bitten, raw. Sirius didn’t take care of himself, and although Remus tried, Sirius had to help himself. It had gotten better over the past 4 weeks, being so busy that he didn’t even notice Remus giving him medicine and water and food of all kinds. But here they were, back to the way they started- unkept and rough. Remus didn’t mind, actually, he knew this was a sign of Sirius being wholeheartedly alive. 

Remus looked up at Sirius one last time, just to ask if this was okay, and before he could get any words out, Sirius closed the gap. 

Usually, people say fireworks went off when you had your first kiss with the love of your life. That was an understatement. Remus felt his body light up a way it hadn’t in so long. He felt full, happy, proud, and oh so in love. 

Sirius knew Remus would be too polite about it, asking for permission, making sure everything was okay, none of it was okay, but somehow, this kiss made it on the list of the best things that have ever happened to Sirius Black. This was the first thing, he just happened to have started this list this morning. 

They sat there for some time, enjoying the slow moving shadows of their mouths on one another, no need for anything more or less. Once they stopped, they breathed, looked each other in the eye, and hugged. 

They embraced so deeply, almost wounding the other, but just enough to where they both felt the safest they have ever felt. Sirius gripped Remus’ shoulders, almost as a lifeline, and Remus had his hand still tangled in black hair, but the other placed on Sirius’ upper back, creating mindless movements that didn’t mean anything, but also meant absolutely everything. 

Sirius wracked his body with sobs, unexpected but not surprising to Remus. He quickly pulled him tighter, trying to put more life into him. He was still so skinny, so scared, so shaky. Sirius gripped his jacket so hard, remus swore he could feel his fingernails on his bare skin. He didn’t complain, another sign of Sirius Black being utterly and desperately alive. 

After a few minutes of soft kisses to the top of Sirius’ head, a hand swiping away the heavy tears, and even Remus letting a few of his own escape, did anyone mutter the first words in a while. 

“I am happy to be alive.” Sirius said this with meaning, and oh, did it mean everything to Remus. 

Remus, who spent months bringing him memories, trying to get him to feel the joy of being Sirius Black, Remus who spent hours out of everyday, relaying him memories from their school years, Remus who bathed him, helped him scrub away the bad voices who never really seemed to leave, Remus, who held him when nobody else did. Remus. Who loved him, like nobody else did. Sirius Black is happy to be alive. Remus Lupin Loved Sirius Black, and more than anything, he loved him alive. 

**Author's Note:**

> so this wasn’t as short as I thought it was gonna be but I was sad and missing these two boys so! hope u enjoyed it, I liked doing this so I may do more!!!


End file.
